President Stein brought down a pen towards a fancy folder. It couldn't contain the full text of the law, but it was a ceremonious gesture in the end. "It's time for America to reach for the stars." Republicans and Democrats, unified and fast, at least on this one thing.

It helped that one side enjoyed being able to grill the other for having a turncoat. They enjoyed that. With a quick scribble, a new law was passed, largely dissolving the old one. America could reach for the stars once more. Or, to be more specific, American governmental dollars could reach for the stars. None of the laws had prevented private initiatives, but those were... expensive, and hard to do without the proper launch places and facilities.

She set the folder aside to be properly filed away, marking the law. "Thank you all for helping make this happen."

She hadn't signed it alone. Her office was filled with high ranking members of either party. There was clapping and congratulating to go around. "How long before we start getting GPS operational?"

A Republican swatted her on the shoulder. "Fortunately, we have a line of satellites waiting to go up. We just have to get them there."

Not that launching them was an instant thing. Still, progress. "Let's get to work."

Grogar sneered at his captive with a malicious smirk. "Just one?" He huffed softly. "Underestimating me, clearly..."

Hoku glared right back at him, but was silent.

"What, no 'You'll never get away with this?' I expected at least that..." He ran a hoof along one of the bars. "No fight left in you?"

"Only get name, rank, and serial," grunted Hoku, fight clearly in his eyes, but he wasn't moving, or chatting. His capture hadn't been gentle, smudges and cuts shown clearly through his dense fur, likely still aching in sharp stings that he put aside for the moment.

"Useless." Grogar rolled his eyes. "One of the Lutrai, hm... Good swimmer, clearly... An agent of the Americans... don't like that..." It was hard to misidentify the american flag Hoku wore as much anything else. "What is an 'American' and how many of them do they have?!"

"Many many," sarcastically laughed out Hoku. Even he knew that! "Enough to crush you."

"They can't crush what they can't see." He whirled for the exit. "You'll have a front row seat. Enjoy watching your precious little country losing."

He stomped off with a deep laugh of future triumph.

"There you are!" The space wyrm smiled brightly, curling around Chrysalis. "You sure do like this world."

"Yeah, something of an attachment," admitted Chrysalis, wearing a similar form of a space noodle. "It was just getting peaceful, thanks to that help before."

"You're welcome," sang the other with a grin on his face, but it didn't last. "What's wrong?" He swirled about her, looking at her dissatisfaction from varying angles. "I thought you'd be happy!"

"I was. It's not you." She waved her short arms at him. "Really, you've been great! I was so impressed." Oh, how he smiled so proudly. "It's them." She pointed at the world. "They're going to start making a mess all over again."

"Again?!" He clasped his hands together fretfully. "So rude. What are they even doing it for? It's not like they live out here." He swirled in place, emphasizing his space-bound nature.

"I don't really know," sighed out Chrysalis. "But some of them are getting their friends in on it, so they can clutter up the sky faster."

"They're doing it on purpose." He crossed his arms with a mighty pout. "Bunch of mean-headed jerks if you ask me. Well, two can play that game!"

Chrysalis smiled at her excited space friend. "Ooo, you sound like you have a plan."

"You bet I do!" He waved to the stars. "They're not the only one with friends! I'll take care of those things and keep the sky clear." He zoomed off, stretching to infinity a moment before vanishing.

Chrysalis smiled at the spot the other space dragon had occupied. They had an ally worth having.

"You present an interesting case." The man folded his arms, considering Paul. Mr. Goldstein and former president under another name... "By many accounts, you were a foreign agent. You were exactly the sort of thing we are supposed to mitigate and prevent." He unfolded his arms with a sigh. "You were something we missed, and almost lost everything because of it."

Paul could feel his jaw, clenched and tight, but he had chosen to come there. "America has more immediate concerns."

"Which is why we're talking." He raised a hand as he turned away. "You weren't pardoned. Of course, you were never properly indicted in the first place. That would have been quite the troubling mess... But you're right. Enemy of the past, perhaps, but we have current ones." He snatched up a folder and swung it and himself around towards Paul. "You will have to apply for confidentiality. I don't envy the ones who have to process that... This is a specific request for trust and confidence. To officially be deemed as worthy of that trust, that we may whisper a few secrets and know they won't be shared."

"I know what confidentiality is." Paul lifted his hands in a mild shrug. "Rightfully or not, I was president. Rightfully or not, I did my best to discharge those duties faithfully."

He leveled a finger at Paul. "The right thing would have been to resign immediately, if not before you ever entered the Oval Office." Things became quiet and tense a moment, the ticking of a clock the only sound. "But what you did is not-so-distant next." He unfolded what he held, showing it was a dossier on Paul's activities. "When you 'resigned', you kept your nose clean. A therapist, unlicensed, in a very specific field." He raised a finger. "We are aware you obtained a permit. But you remain unlicensed. Fortunately, you have a high success rate for someone who hasn't been properly educated."

Paul cleared his throat. "I have a lot of... personal experience with the idea of identity."

The man leaned forward, looming over Paul's seated form. "I should imagine. I'm talking to at least your third such. Tell me! What happened to your first? You had a first, did you not?"

"I did." A short and curt answer.

"Answer enough." He made a quick note, scratching at the paper. "Your old employer, if I understand correctly, was sentenced to death. Do you have feelings about that?"

"Irritation she didn't finish getting it." Paul clenched a fist, thinking about it. "There's no love lost there. Now, I don't mean to be rude, but when do we begin?"

"Already doing that." He produced a card and held it towards Paul. "Go to this address. They already know you're coming. If you're expecting excitement, quash that. It's time for bureaucracy. We expect two to four months, but you're an interesting case, as I began. Don't expect that."

Paul rose to his feet with a frown. "The people I'm here to fight are still moving, right now. Can we wait half a year or more?"

"We are a nation of laws." He straightened his jacket. "Good luck with the clearance."

Paul left with a new destination in mind, but a thought tickled. He drew out his phone for some quick typing.

Hey,

It's me, Paul. Some people may call you in the future asking about me. It's alright, just answer truthfully. Nothing fancier than that. Sorry for any headache that might be.

Appreciate it,
Paul

He hit send, firing the email off at his adopted little friend family. "Rude to not give them some kind of warning..." How were they doing? He hoped well. They knew his email. Surely they'd just drop a line if anything came up?

He had to protect their country first.

He had to get clearance before that.

"You get the email?" Mike sounded nervous on the line.

Swift snorted into the phone. "You saw my email in the email. We all got the email!" She threw her free hand up, the other holding the phone. "That sounds super sketchy!"

"Um." Mike got quieter a moment, away from the phone. "I got a job."

"You did?!" Swift forgot the other topic. "That's great! Where at? You know I'll stop by."

"Not sure if you want to do that..."

Swift raised a brow. "What kind of strange job did you get?"

"It's not that strange..."

"Then tell me already," she grunted out. "C'mon! I told you what mine'll be!"

"Just working at a golf place," he admitted in a defeated tone. "Someone has to get the lost balls and stuff..."

"Huh." She grabbed her headphones and popped them on, freeing her hands entirely. "I thought you'd get something brainier than that!"

"I wanted to! I did... But I found that, and got it..."

"Hey, it's alright." She smiled even if he couldn't see it. "We all need a first job. I just got lucky. I'll still drop by, so text me where this place is."

"You sure?"

"Duh." She rolled her eyes. "We'll lose a few balls ourself."

"Swift." A flat tone that. "You don't even know how to play golf."

"But... now I have a reason to learn, hm?" She wagged a finger at the air, confident in her logic.

"Alright, alright... But about Mister Goldstein?"

"Paul?" First names clearly worked for Swift Swim. "Sketchy! Way sketchier than ball fetching. We have to help..."

"Pretty sure we can help by waiting for any phonecalls and being honest, like Mister Goldstein asked."

"Ugh! I love you, Mike, but you're so straight laced, I wonder how you tie your shoes." Not that she had shoes. Hooves were not especially designed for them. Still, she knew what they were. "Seriously, that's it? We answer some stupid questions?"

"He asked us to answer them, so they can't be all stupid," reasoned Mike. "He didn't seem like a guy that wanted to waste time on stupid things."

"Yeah..." Swift rocked in place front and back. "I hope he's alright... But first! Work! We're going to do great, both of us!"

"Here's to that." Not that he had a drink to toast with, but one could imagine him making the gesture anyway. "To new starts."

"To new starts," eagerly joined Swift. "We'll make tons of money this summer." They might have been teens, but they were teens with a plan! The most dangerous sort of teen, if one thought about it. "Oh, you ready for finals?"

He laughed over the phone. "Swift, I should be asking you that."

"But you didn't." She rolled her eyes, turning towards a nearby window. "So I had to ask you."

"I'm not scared of any of the finals." A moment of quiet. "What about you? Want to go over anything?"

"Oh thank god," she allowed with a powerful exhale. "Yes! Please yes..."

"Come by tomorrow," he assured in a gentle assurance. "We'll go over the hard parts."

"You are the best!" she sang out. "See you tomorrow!" And she ended the call.

"Funny thing." Chrysalis tapped at his screen with a hoof. "Humans are terrible at keeping track of themselves, despite all that paperwork."

Cozy raised a brow. "Really? That doesn't really, gosh, fit..."

"And yet... hundreds of thousands of them, every year, just gone." She tapped at the screen more urgently. "Just something they take for granted... We should take advantage of that."

Cozy flashed a malicious smile. "The way you say that, you already have an idea. Golly, don't keep me in suspense!"

Author's Note

Last update of the year, for this story at least. What idea is Chryssie cooking?

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